


A Game Between Rivals

by TheOutgriber



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Attempts at aftercare, Begging, Consensual Sex, Dom!Blue Zircon, Dom/sub, F/F, Foot Jobs, Humiliation, I'm courtship trash, Mild S&M, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sub!Yellow Zircon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOutgriber/pseuds/TheOutgriber
Summary: Upon occasion, Yellow Zircon likes to submit to Blue Zircon. It's a game they play. At least, that's what Blue's guessing. Takes place some time within the past century. Partially inspired by "You Think I'm Good" by bruised_fruit (we could always use more Dom!Blue courtship in this world).





	A Game Between Rivals

**Author's Note:**

> So this happened. Here's some Dom!Blue/Sub!Yellow Zircon Courtship. Readers, everything that happens in this scene is consensual activity between adults who have known each other for a few thousand years. However, there are still some unhealthy background dynamics (unrelated to their kinks) because this is Homeworld, and Homeworld remains the worst.

Blue Zircon crouches on the floor of her quarters, flanked by tablets. She’s reading an old case from the First Era, a riveting record of the defense and acquittal of an amethyst accused of poofing an agate. She’s cleared out the furniture. An empty room helps her focus. She’s so engrossed in her reading that the sound of her door swishing open sends her toppling back with a squawk. 

“Shards, Yellow, don’t startle me like that!” She sits up, feeling silly. Her legs are splayed out in front of her, and the tablets are all in disarray.  
“My apologies,” Yellow says, gliding into the room. She drops down to settle in front of Blue on the floor, lazily resting her hands on Blue’s calves. “You can’t just barge in here any time,” Blue grumbles. Why did she give her that pass code? Yellow bends forward, exposing a sleek sliver of neck. “Oh, forgive me,” she drawls, pressing a proprietary kiss on the back of Blue’s knee. Blue shivers. 

“I-I suppose you want something from me?” she inquires, raising an eyebrow. Of course, she already knows the answer. When Yellow gives her that face, with that coy smile and those eyes, a little wide, Blue knows what it means, even if she doesn’t know why. She never makes that face in any other context. 

The first time Yellow knelt before her took Blue by surprise. It’s not that they hadn’t had sex before. Several millennia of coexistence complicates the warmest friendships and the bitterest rivalries. A certain kind of tension, even intimacy, among gems of the same class was to be expected, if not condoned. Blue and Yellow were rivals with occasional benefits. Pre-trial groping, post-trial victory sex (or defeat sex, depending), a little frisk during the recess of a particularly dull hearing, were not unheard of. Yellow was a show-off in every way. She always knew how to get Blue flustered and wet, hit all the right spots to make her come. It was embarrassing. And good. But whenever Blue tried to reciprocate, Yellow would grin, shake her head, and saunter off, leaving Blue disheveled and confused. Blue suspected that this was just another way for Yellow to win, which made her apparent capacity for submission all the more jarring. 

Blue marvels at it, Yellow’s desire to abase herself, to put herself through whatever Blue has to offer. She supposes most of the time that it’s just another of Yellow’s games; in court, she’s as smug and smarmy as ever. She still loves to tease and vex when she’s not submitting. Yes, this must be a game; fortunately, Blue finds it agreeable. At the moment, Yellow’s tickling her way down Blue’s legs.

“I would love to serve you today,” she says, punctuating the statement with another kiss, this time on the sensitive area below Blue’s ankle. She grins like she’s done something clever.  
Blue makes a great show of rolling her eyes. She too knows how to create an experience. 

“Alright,” she says, letting the tablets jitter out of existence. “Maybe I’ll consider it. If you beg well enough.” And just like that, Yellow beams, suddenly starry-eyed, almost reverent. “Thank you,” she breathes. Sliding back a few feet, she flattens herself to the floor and begins to plant slow kisses on it instead. “Oh please, please allow me to serve you, let me kiss your feet and be your servant...I’m lower than a common pearl; please make me your zircon, your servant, use me. Oh, please--”  
“That’s enough,” Blue says, bopping Yellow’s nose lightly with a toe. “You can start with my shoes.”  
“Oh yes!” Yellow sighs, scooting forward on her knees. Blue bites down on a smile. Yellow kisses deeply, evenly, so that Blue can feel the imprint of hot, wet lips through the material. This excites Blue, though she never knows quite what to make of it. “Lick,” she says with practiced blankness. Yellow groans and obeys, gasping when Blue phases her shoes off. Yellow doesn't stray from her task, following the trajectory when Blue lifts one foot higher experimentally.  
When one Yellow hand begins to inch up, to touch, Blue drives a heel down into the back of it, pinning it to the floor. 

“You’re lucky I’m allowing this,” she says, making her voice flow slow and rich. “I suppose gratitude might count for something.” Yellow redoubles her efforts with a steady stream of thanks interspersed with earnest pleas to be allowed to touch. “Go on,” Blue says, letting Yellow’s hand free. She doesn’t usually have to say much; Yellow likes to talk. Yellow holds Blue’s feet like priceless treasures, licks along the insteps, flicks her tongue around the sensitive flesh around the ankles, gently grazes the heels. She groans when Blue pushes toes into her mouth. A hot, staticy feeling shoots through Blue’s body as Yellow mouths thanks around that foot. Yellow’s a good talker, no doubt, Blue thinks, settling back on her elbows. Yellow pauses to take off her vest for Blue to use as a cushion, ever the attentive servant. 

Blue nods regally, accepting the offering. Of course, this whole process would be easier if she just summoned a chair, but she can’t be bothered to make things easy. Still, a reward is in order. She slips a foot down to press against Yellow’s crotch, still clothed but radiating heat, and fucks Yellow’s mouth with the other. Yellow holds but doesn’t dare direct. Blue listens in a kind of bewitchment to the bizarre whimpers and sighs they both make. 

It’s as if they’re in some sort of trance. With effort, she drags her feet off of Yellow slowly, leaving her slumped forward and gasping, visibly restraining herself. Yellow kneels up at attention, panting, hands clasped behind her back. Her eyes are hooded. Her mouth hangs open, just waiting to be filled again. Impulsively, Blue hooks a foot under her crotch and tugs, reeling her in. Yellow moans. She won't come like this (nor is her pleasure the objective of this particular exercise). She bows, silently pleading. Blue smiles and nods, then lies back on the vest. Yellow surges forward, kissing every part of Blue she can reach, gripping Blue’s suddenly bare thighs for balance. Blue rakes through Yellow’s hair with a firm hand. 

Seizing a fistful, she pulls them both up and phases away her vest and cravat. Yellow immediately sets to work on her chest, kissing, sucking, and rolling her tongue over Blue’s breasts, shoulders, neck, everywhere except her gem. Intoxicating. Under other circumstances, Blue could let Yellow take over. Not today. Cupping hands around the back of Yellow’s neck, she finds that special area connecting neck and shoulder that drives Yellow up the wall. “My, if the others could see you now,” she whispers, nuzzling her way up, “if they saw what an obedient servant you are, they’d all want you to themselves.” 

“Oh,” Yellow gasps as Blue grazes her temple, “I just want to serve you, all the time.” Blue pauses.  
“My zircon,” she says softly, tracing down her cheek, “be grateful for what you have.” She snakes her other hand in between Yellow’s legs. Wet and hot.  
“I am,” Yellow says, burying her head in the crook of Blue’s neck. “Oh Stars, I am.” Her hips jerk. 

“Shhh,” Blue says, guiding her down with one hand on her shoulder as she slides the other into Yellow’s pants, swirling her fingers around Yellow’s crotch again, just for a moment.  
“Oh may I?” Yellow begs when she realizes what’s happening.  
“How does a good zircon ask?” Blue says, even though she’s ready for Yellow to get on with it.  
“Please, please may I eat you out, may your servant worship you, Your Radiance?” Yellow pleads, tongue lolling out. 

“You may,” Blue says faintly. Your Radiance. That’s new. With a sob, Yellow buries her face between Blue’s legs, looping long arms around her thighs for a better angle. Her hair tickles Blue’s belly. Trembling, Blue locks her legs around her waist, squeezing her closer. 

And oh, Yellow is diligent, licking, kissing, rubbing Blue all over her face like it’s the only thing that matters. “Please come, please come on my face,” she murmurs, and Blue does, with shocking speed.  
Blue feels for a few moments like she’s flying, like Yellow’s launched her into orbit. She’s been known to hold out just to give Yellow more work, but something in Yellow’s tone made her want to oblige this time. Yellow tongues her reverently as the orgasm subsides, uncomplaining about the way Blue’s fingers have tangled none too gently in her hair. This courtly zircon takes punishment like a jasper.  
Blue manages to sit up after a minute, hands still on Yellow’s head. 

She smooths Yellow’s hair down the nape of her neck and lets her go, recovering enough to say “Adequate work, zircon. You have served me well.”  
“Thank you, Radiance,” Yellow says, glowing herself, as if she’s the one who’s just had a revelatory orgasm. She lowers her face to the ground between Blue’s legs. “Please tell me anything else I can do to serve you. I’m yours.” 

Her shoulders are heaving. Poor Yellow, doing all this work for Blue and too well-behaved to touch herself. Blue will be merciful today.  
“Kneel up, zircon,” she says, shifting forward onto her own knees. Yellow obeys, still bowed forward slightly to put herself below Blue. Blue could make her beg to come. Yellow never assumes she will be allowed. A wave of affection washes over Blue, and all she wants to do is pull her in and hold her, but that's not what this is. She settles for guiding firm hands around Yellow’s face. 

“Let’s make you come, yes?” she says, leaning in to silence the “If it pleases you--”caught in Yellow’s mouth. Yellow bucks forward into her, gasping as Blue pushes a knee between her legs. Her arms jerk as she tries to keep from touching. Blue digs her thumbs into Yellow’s cheeks, slipping her tongue into her mouth and out again, claiming as much as she rewards. She tastes the evidence of Yellow’s work. Yellow shudders and babbles, “Touch, may I, please---” hands balled up with the effort of holding still. 

“Rut against my leg,” Blue whispers between kisses. Yellow moans, grinding into Blue’s thigh. It’s not enough, Blue can already tell. As an act of mercy, she picks up Yellow’s obedient hands, guiding them them to touch Blue’s chest and thigh. She puts a steady hand on the place where Yellow’s neck meets her back, pulls her knee away and runs the other hand between Yellow’s legs, into her wetness. 

“Let me,” she says, straddling her, rolling her hips down, and all Yellow can do is nod and moan into her shoulder, squeezing where she is allowed to touch. The sounds spur Blue on, inspiring her to narrow from sloppy general groping something more focused. She spreads her fingers forcefully, drawing them back like she’s beckoning, summoning an orgasm from Yellow. Yellow thrusts against her, begging for more.  
“You’ve worked so hard for me,” Blue says, finally turning her long strokes into fast, tight circles around Yellow’s clit. “Come.” 

Yellow wails and thrusts. Blue holds her firmly, bracing for the inevitable collapse.  
When Yellow sags against her, Blue doesn't push her off. “Good zircon,” she mutters. “Thank you,” Yellow sighs, kissing her shoulder. She peels her hands off of Blue’s body. 

Normally, this is when they would collect themselves, perhaps phase on some fresh clothing. Blue would look Yellow over for injury, and Yellow would wave her away. She’d rise and leave the room, scampering, strutting, maybe even stalking. Somehow, that’s not what Blue wants this time. No, this time, Blue draws her in close, silently wrapping arms around her. She registers something wet on her shoulder. 

“Oh, did I hurt you?” she asks, more alarmed than she’d like to be. “No,” Yellow says, sounding slightly dazed. “I guess I just--really liked that.”  
“Well, good,” Blue says, disappointed at the raw, strangled quality of her own voice. “You--you were good, Yellow.”  
“Was I?” Yellow asks, finally lifting her head. Her smile is beatific. Her eyes sparkle. A couple of rogue tears have slipped down her face.  
“Yes,” Blue says, fretfully swiping at them. She finds Yellow’s hands and squeezes, massaging out the stiffness.  
“Thank you,” Yellow says.  
“You didn’t have to keep them so still,” Blue chides.  
“Yes I did,” Yellow replies seriously.  
Blue keeps rubbing for a few moments more. Yellow closes her eyes and lets her.  
“I’ll be more specific next time,” Blue says at last. “We-we can make sure we’re not so hard on your hands.”  
“It wasn’t hard,” Yellow says, some of that smarmy air already returning.  
“Oh really?” Blue says, suddenly disgruntled.  
“Even easier than beating you in court,” Yellow says, wiggling her eyebrows.  
Blue blushes. She should’ve expected nothing less. 

She reaches for Yellow’s vest, now rumpled and musky-smelling, and thrusts it into her chest. “Walk out like this,” she says. Yellow looks shocked for a second but recovers admirably. “With pleasure,” she says, grinning. Giving Blue a sloppy kiss on the cheek, she slings the vest over her shoulder and swaggers out like she didn't just spend the past hour in sexual service, like her lips aren’t swollen and her tie isn’t practically undone. She doesn't even try to smooth down her hair. 

Blue sits there, feeling a little shaky, and reaches up to assess the damage to her own coif. Could be worse. She lets her hand trail down to her cheek. Her chest. Between her legs, still soft and sticky. The thighs Yellow gripped. Last of all, the ankle Yellow kissed. The kiss she felt through her shoe. She’ll phase on a fresh set of clothing soon, but not yet. Tomorrow, this will just be a memory. In court, Yellow will be her conceited, overconfident rival, just like always. But tonight, Yellow called her Radiance. Tonight, Blue holds that ankle, the one Yellow kissed, thinking, with disquieted wonderment, that they are more than rivals.


End file.
